


One More Encore

by Needledolly



Category: Kaze to Ki no Uta | Song of Wind and Trees
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Body Image, Heartbreak, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Short One Shot, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28759074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needledolly/pseuds/Needledolly
Summary: Auguste Beau a retired dancer happens upon a boy (Gilbert) that resembles him so thoroughly in his prime it hurts.He sets out with strict methods to mold him into the perfect star completely controlling every aspect of hisThe two fall into mutual obsessive, desperate, passionate, loveuntil one day after years Auguste suddenly goes cold...
Relationships: Auguste Beau/Gilbert Cocteau
Kudos: 2





	One More Encore

**Author's Note:**

> I had a random spontaneous idea about Auguste being a bitter former ballet dancer and Gilbert being his lover/pupil  
> I really feel like being a dancer suits him.  
> An obsession with beauty and control, his theatrical glamour, And his burning passion and envy for the younger prettier Gilbert who is always just a little better than he could ever be.
> 
> It's almost more of a poem than a story  
> I hope you enjoy <3

The day we met he showed me his portrait, a boy of twelve on a stage fair skinned and pale haired.  
He seemed to shimmer off the canvas angelic, ethereal, wrapped in white silk and silver stockings a pale blue sash around his waist.  
The resemblance between it and I was uncanny.

He became my instructor.  
A sweet smelling tyrant hungry for flesh and fame.  
Each angle of my body scrutinized, each circumference measured with string and cut.  
No part of me was unknown to him.

Practices were long and all consuming  
If I moved too fast or too slow, if the line of my body was not long enough, perfect enough, If I stumbled even imperceptibly.  
We would repeat.  
Again and again and again.  
Adnausem  
While he sat staring, with piercing eyes  
in his plush chair, grasping his cane.  
Decorating my slender calves in purple and red hues.

I could not eat without him feeding me.  
I could not drink without him pouring my glass.  
I could not stretch my legs without the guide of his hand.  
I could not go out without him by my side.

He wanted me to be a star.  
His dancing beauty.  
He wanted me to be what he could not  
In the flush of my youth, spritelike, and sinewed.  
Soft and supple, a lump of clay in his hand.  
He poured his soul into me  
I was his masterpiece, his Galatea 

And a star I became.  
Twirling on stage bathed in golden light  
My every movement, utter and complete perfection.  
They called me a genius, a wunderkind, a god.  
Drowning in an ocean of flowers and a sea of applause.  
He had been a star too.  
But no one ever spoke of him.  
And he never answered when I asked why.

When we were home alone he would dress me in his old costumes.  
Rolling the translucent stockings up my legs with trembling hands.  
Kissing the length of them down to the tip of my pointed dancers shoes.  
As a lover he was tender and sweet, there was no brutality to his touch.  
He worshipped me with his caresses.  
A union of passion, of triumph, of love, of obsession.  
He was always pleased with me then. 

Time went by.  
I aged.  
I grew taller, my shoulders widened, my waist expanded  
When I performed he would not look at me.  
When I came to him he would not touch me.  
I tried to shrink myself to please him.  
It did not work.  
He hung my portrait next to his.  
My rich gold and red suffocating his delicate white and blue.

Beauty and artistry are both transient and fleeting, my pet.  
We each only have a good five,or six years of perfection in us .  
Go on, beautiful Gilbert.  
You spent them well.  
His attempts to comfort me  
Left an aftertaste of mockery.

when they applauded.  
I stood silent, numb  
I faltered, I withered, I weakened  
For what is a doll without the hand that moves it?  
What is a puppet that has no strings to pull ?  
What am I without him?  
It is nothing  
They are nothing  
I am nothing


End file.
